The Hands of a Lunatic
by Monkeystarz
Summary: One-shot HHR: Hands. Such a simple word for such a hard working body part. A hand could hold love, joy, tears, hands, guilt, a hand could kill. Hers did. Hers killed him. Her hand had killed Ron Weasly.
1. Hands

**/N: im not sure what going to go on in this one-shot. Im not sure who the pairing will be. Im not sure how it will end or how it will began. All I know is that I needed to write. A long ache in me was willing me to write. And so I asked myself simply. Why not?**

The Hands of a Lunatic.

She stared at her hand. Long and hard she gazed, her eyes blinking seldom for the need moisture. This hand had done so many things at so many different times.

This hand had held onto her mother's finger after she was born. Once it even had a chance to meet a nail. This hand had sewed, drawn, wrote, turned pages, danced, held, loved, clung, drove, performed magic, and even, killed. No one would have guessed that someone's hands could describe their life.

Sure there was palm reading, highly overrated by the way, and sure there were those who had callused hands and silky hands.

Specifically speaking, her hand was neither soft nor hard just… skin. Skin was a whole other rant in itself. Wasn't it amazing how when sliced it grew back? Yes, it took awhile, but it grew back never the less. The girl, no woman, sighed softly. She remembered almost everything she had done in her life w/ her hands.

In First year she had grabbed a toad and held a wand picked up a broom and hugged a friend. In first year she had found something all but few could find. True friends. That year she had wrote many feet of parchments read many books and turned millions of pages! She'd been part of a chess set (a strange feeling, rather) and had struggled in devils snare. Held a cup of potion hoping her calculations were right or the death of her and one of her best friends would have occurred.

Second year these hands had quivered in fear and froze stiff. She'd learned the basilisk and had tried to warn Harry and Ron but she had been froze, as mentioned above. Her hand had held the note, the note in which Harry had found cupped in her fist.

Third year she had held Ron's hand. She'd punched Malfoy, and hugged Harry. She'd held the feathers/ fur of a gryphon/bird. She'd flipped a time turner and saved Buckbeaks life, along with Sirius, who now is dead. She'd thrown a stone that hit Harry in the head, and taunted a werewolf. Shed cursed a teacher and again turned pages of hundreds of books. She'd studied and learned.

Fourth year she'd been kissed by Victor Krum, and danced with him, hand in hand. She had seen a jealous flare in Ron and Harry's eyes. Ropes had tied her hands to a boulder that held her under water.

Fifth year she didn't even want to think about. Besides becoming a prefect everything had been terrible. She had been hit with a curse in the Ministry of magic. That's all she remembered well.

Sixth year is where she stood now, staring at her hand. Her hand that now had bloodstains on it. The hand that had killed someone she held very dear to her. She'd killed him, thinking it was for the best. He had to die it was the only way. Nobody blamed her at all. It had to happen.

After along time of intense staring she turned her gaze on the body of Ron Weasley. He laid there his eyes closed a smile on his lip. Even when he knew she was going to kill him he smiled at her, reassuring her. Mentally telling her he didn't blame her it had to happen.

She remembered the last conversation she had with him, in her room at night. He had kissed her gently and told her softly of what she had to do. She had sobbed and let him kiss her tears away she had tried to be brave and understand but she clung to his shirt like a child scared of a storm.

Don't get her actions mistaken, she didn't love him in that way, but she knew he loved her like that. So just once she had gave into him, just once she had pretended to love him. Just once they could play make believe.

He told her wearily that he knew, "Hermione, love, I know of your feelings, but just once let me hold you. Please just once." And she had given in.

She could never love him more because she loved another. Another man whom she saw each day and each moment when her eyes met his the feeling intensified. That night Ron had held her hands. He'd kissed her palms and looked into her eyes.

Then he'd told her of all the details, more then she wanted to hear. "This must happen 'Mione. It must." He'd reassured her. Then he dove into the details of his death.

He'd be behind Harry as he fought with Voldemort, and if at any point Harry got hurt Ron would take over and start to Hermione would heal Harry to the best of her abilities. I Then Harry would fight Voldemort more, and Ron would stand beside Hermione acting as her shield.

If anything were to happen to her two boys she was to run to hide, or if able to kill Voldemort by surprise. Even if both Harry and Ron were in the way. She was to kill him or help them out, but if it was impossible she was to run.

She'd nodded her head stiffly after he had finished then a fresh batch of tears had cascaded down her face. Then, sobbing she fell asleep her hands over Ron's heart.

The next day they had gone to the battle filed. She had watched Harry Fight Voldemort and Watched Ron step in as she healed Harry. She watched, in terror as Voldemort knocked Harry Out, and watched as this evil man grabbed Ron around the throat. She glanced from her hiding spot from the unconscious Harry to the struggling and Ron and stifled a sob as she lifted her wand, knowing what she had to do. She saw Ron glance in her direction and watched a smile of reassurance come over his face. She nearly crumbled to the ground in tears, but she said strongly the curse of death. The curse that all wizards feared. An unforgivable curse that was incredibly forgivable in this case. She watched as Voldemort through Ron in front of him to get the full blow she watched as the now motionless body slammed into Voldemort transferring some of her spell into him, she watched as Voldemort fell not nearly dead, but almost.

Then she watched as Harry stood up white as a sheet and walked over to the groaning lump of evil. She watched as Harry set his body a flame, she saw him die and flow into dust. In which Harry abruptly stomped on and glared, cursing it in his rampage. He fell to his knees crying, in either sadness or happiness. Then She saw how he looked at Ron, regret etched on his face.

Her heart thudded loudly as she couldn't move. Then she looked down at her hands.

Now she looked at Ron who lay next to the boy who lived, again. She wanted to run to him to throw her arms around him and apologize for not returning his feelings. She wanted to take his place and be dead. She wanted to go over and see his smiling eyes that softened when they fell on her, but of course now she'd never see the ocean eyes that loved her so.

Her Cinnamon orbs now met those of emerald and they stared for a while. She then felt her legs give in and she drifted to the ground.

Cinnamon still met those of emerald.

Then both Spice and gem turned to the ocean blues that were hidden by layers of skin.

A cry rang through the air, did she scream? Salty wetness hung to her cheeks.

Tears?

Are these mine, she wondered?

More grief stricken cries echoed when she realized it was indeed herself screaming.

Harry just stared at her as she sobbed.

"Ron! Ron! RON!" his named echoed across the globe flung into the wind.

She didn't remember how but some how she had found herself next to his body brushing locks of his flaming hair away from his handsome, but pale face.

Harry just stared.

She through her arms around her dead friend and clung to his shirt as she did the night before she sobbed like a child and wondered how she could of killed him. "Why?" she asked out loud "Why did I kill him?" she said between tearful moans.

"You had to." A painful voice answered her and she knew it was Harry who still stared.

"No, I could of- I could of… I could of let him live."

"Then so would Voldemort."

"Now there all gone, Harry" she moaned remembering the smiling Ginny who had been murdered a week before. "There aren't anymore Weasleys HARRY. THEY'RE ALL GONE. All of them… Ron, Ron's dead…"

Harry sat silently sill staring at her as she cupped Ron's chin. He didn't know what to say, Hermione was not used to all this death. She had seen it in the last year. She had watched Ginny, Molly, Fred, and Charlie get killed. She had seen Neville tortured. She had heard of Georges and Bill's disappearance. She'd watched Draco kill a death eater in order to save her that astounded everyone.

Yet, they were never Ron. And she had never killed them.

She slumped over his body as hers shook violently.

She'd just gotten over Ginny's death and had come to except it… but now…

Now it all hurt. She took her wand fumbling and pointed it too herself.

Harry stared, until it clicked in his mind as to what she intended on doing.

"HERMIONE!" he lunged at her taking her wand before she could finish the incantation, he broke her wand.

"NO!" she screeched in lunacy, "NO! NO! You CAN'T! I NEED TO DIE! I NEED TO IM A MURDERER! A MURDERER! I DESERVE A PAINFUL AND SLOW DEATH I KILED HIM! I killed him….I killed him, Harry. I'm all alone…..all alone."

Harry shook his head taking her in a hug and whispered into her hair. "I'm here. I'm here Hermione. I need you with me… you can't leave me alone 'Mione. You're all I have left."

She stifled a sob and glanced at Ron's body. He did the same and there they sat in silence staring.

And she held his hand. As silent tears rolled down both their faces.

(Later…)

"Hermione?" Harry opened her door glancing at her face then sighing heavily. It'd been a month since Ron's death and she still was staring at a wall mournfully. Either that or looking at her hands and washing them pointlessly mumbling in madness about Ron's blood….

He walked back out of her room she was depressing right now. He'd come back later.

Once he did she was at the sink rubbing her completely clean hands raw.

"Ron's blood.. stain… Ron… blood….. blood… Ron…" she shivered now ad then and Harry kneeled next to her.

Withdrawing her hands from the sink her eyes were on his and she stared as if only first recognizing him.

"Hermione. Your hands have no blood on them."

She looked skeptically at her hands and nodded her head reluctantly admitting they were clean.

He pulled her into a hug and mumbled into her ear.

"You have to forgive yourself. It had to happen he had to die. Would he have wanted you like this? Would he?"

Mutely, she shook her head, no.

"Then smile... Breathe. You aren't a murderer. You're an amazing woman whom all love and care for, were all worried about you. Everyone."

"Their all dead Harry. All dead."

He sighed kissing her temple and waving goodbye then left the room.

(3 years later)

Yet again we find Harry walking into Hermione room and he smiled at her, but she didn't acknowledge his presence. She stared at the picture on her desk mournfully.

He sat across from her and chatted, apparently he was in a happy mood.

Hermione hadn't spoken for 2 and ½ years. She'd stared at walls, pictures and washed her hands, occasionally reading or watching T.V, but never speaking.

In the middle of Harry's humorous story about Hagrid she stood up and walked over to him. clinging to his shirt she sobbed. And screamed

"Now there all gone, Harry. There aren't anymore Weasleys HARRY. THEY'RE ALL GONE. All of them… Rons, Rons dead…"

Harry awkwardly patted her shoulder and took a deep breath calming him down. "Yes Hermione, their dead."

He watched her face in curiosity as different emotions passed her face.

"What happened to Ron? Harry?"

"He died Hermione."

"How'd he die Harry?"

"Voldemort killed him 'mione."

"Did he really?"

"No."

"I killed him didn't I."?

"You had to."

"Did I really?"

"Yes."

"Ron forgives me Harry. He loved me Harry. Now no one loves me. Im alone Harry."

"No Hermione. I love you. You'll never be alone."

"Where am I Harry? Am I home?"

"No, you're far from it."

"He loved me. He told me so. I killed him. I murdered him. I didn't love him. I loved Harry. Do you know if Harry's alive?"

"He's alive.." Harry managed to say without choking on a sob. She was having a break through. She loved him.

"Harry."

"Yes?"

"Where's Ron?"

He sighed and patted her head taking a needle from the counter he gave her a shot and she slumped into his arms, he carried her back to her bed and placed her on it. He kissed her lips, then walked to the door and stopped as she mumbled softly.

"I want to go home."

"You will soon. Just keep talking 'Mione." He knew she couldn't hear him; she never truly could in the first place. He turned the knob and stepped out.

Nodding to familiar faces he walked out the main doors and made a mental note in his head to come back tomorrow.

Turning he looked up at the sign and his heart tugged softly. "Soon ill save you from your memories Hermione. Ill take you home soon, love." Turning away once more Harry Potter walked away from St. Mungos wringing his hands warily.

**A/N: wow! That was longer then I thought it was going to be!**


	2. AN

**A/N**

**Dear Readers,**

**I went ahead and attempted to fix spelling mistakes and grammar…**

**Though I know I missed a few.**

**And I adjusted the Weasleys name and spelled it correctly!**

**Yay! -**

**-monkeystarz**

**P.S: thank you for reading **


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